


clash.

by Rehearsal_Dweller



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Gen, Spoilers for Not What He Seems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 16:39:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3536570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rehearsal_Dweller/pseuds/Rehearsal_Dweller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She trusts him.<br/>She trusts <i>him.</i><br/>She <i>trusts</i> him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. flash.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a take on the moment that Mabel chooses not to shut down the portal and everything falls to pieces, from three different points of view. I would've done Soos's, too, but I haven't figured out writing him yet.

He  _knows_  she’s wrong, but he doesn’t have it in him to feel betrayed. Not yet.

(Not ever, probably, because they’re all about to die.)

He’s shouting something, but he barely even knows what, because his eyes are on Mabel and she’s floating away. It doesn’t even matter that she chose Stan instead of him, instead of  _her own brother_ , because she’s closer to the portal – or whatever that was – and that means she’s going to die first. And he’s going to have to watch.

On the upside, at least, he’ll be aware of it for the fraction of a second it takes for the explosive – implosive? – force to tear him apart as well.

That’s not much of a comfort, really.

And then everything goes white, in a flash of light that is simultaneously scalding and freezing. He’s floating, completely weightless, not moving anywhere but feeling like he’s hurtling through space all at once.

They crash to the ground, and the room is a wreck and the Shack is in shambles but they’re  _alive_ , or he thinks they are. They’re alive, and Mabel didn’t listen. They’re alive, and he still doesn’t know if he can trust Stan. They’re alive, and Soos has declared an allegiance, but not to Stan. They’re alive, but it doesn’t feel right.

He doesn’t even see Mabel, at first, and thinks that she was lost anyway, even though the world (probably) didn’t self-destruct, and for one heart stopping moment it doesn’t  _matter_.

 _None_  of it matters.

But Mabel’s there, she’s okay – or as okay as she’s going to be, having been dropped from easily ten feet in the air – and then he can let himself process the rest of the world.

He’s furious, he’s betrayed, he’s in a lot of pain, and then –

And then –

It’s _him_. The Author. Stan – not-Stan, maybe-Stan, formerly-Stan – has a brother, and his brother is  _the Author_ , and he’s known all along and never said a word.

He knew this town was weird, he knew Stan might be… dangerous, but this –

(He can honestly almost sympathise with this.)

But at least they’re alive.

Right?


	2. crash.

She’s right; she has to be.

She wants so badly to _believe_ Stan. He loves them. He would never try to break the world, he wouldn’t. Not without a reason, at least.

This place, for the summer at least, was their home. And it was Stan’s home always.

(The _world_ was their home, was Stan’s home, and he wouldn’t – He _wouldn’t_.)

She knows why Dipper’s trust is wavering. She knows, she understands. She is tempted, too, because the evidence – circumstantial, perhaps, but evidence – is there, and concrete, and staggering.

But she also knows in her heart that Stan is still Stan, whether he’s Stan or not.

So it falls to her: stop this disaster-about-to-happen in its tracks, or trust that Stan knows what he’s doing.

It isn’t a question of Stan or Dipper – whatever Dipper will think of it later, whatever Stan might assume – it _isn’t_. It’s this feeling that she has in her own heart. This is the right thing to do.

(There is a distinct possibility, she realises somewhere between letting go and holding her breath, that she’ll die no matter what. She only hopes that whatever made Stan this desperate works out in the end.)

Her eyes are closed, but she can see the light burning through them. She is very cold and very warm all at once, and she is almost certain that she is dying.

That she is, perhaps, already dead.

But then the world crashes back into place. She hits the ground, hard. Hard enough to make her certain, certain beyond doubt that she is in fact alive.

Well, that’s good. She’d worried for a moment there about what might happen to Dipper if this had killed her; about what might happen to Stan. They’d have needed each other, surely, but Dipper – Dipper is already furious, and would have been worse. Inconsolable.

At least this way she can still look out for him if he gets stupid.

Because the world didn’t end, and the Author is here, and they are alive and that’s what matters.

That’s what matters.

That’s what matters.

They’re alive, alive, alive, and that’s _all_ that matters.

Stan’s brother – Granddad? Another grunkle, maybe? What _is_ he to them, anyway? – is here, and the rest will all come out in the wash.

Right?


	3. ash.

She trusts him.

This is miraculous, but at the same time unsurprising. Mabel is (has always been) the trusting one, after all, with an open mind and an open heart that might one day be her undoing. He hopes – _hoped_ with every fibre of his being – that today will not be that day. The universe (and he, himself, quite honestly) has given her a hundred million reasons not to believe him.

That Dipper has _ever_ trusted him is also a miracle of sorts, so that he’s looked at all of the evidence and decided that he’s done isn’t really surprising either. Upsetting, sure, and there will always be something of a scar on their relationship now.

Alright, no, there’ll be a scar if he’s _lucky_. If things go as horrifically as they might, they might all just be dead. Or, perhaps worse, they’ll live and his relationship with Dipper will be forever tainted by an open, festering wound of distrust.

Right now, he’s just hoping they were going to live. The rest, he can figure out later. As long as there _is_ a later.

Soos’s decision to step in catches him off guard. It’s almost enough to make him question what he’s doing (Dipper and Mabel really are in danger, but they shouldn’t have come down here), but not enough to make him stop. He’s come this far, hasn’t he? And he’s so, so close.

And then it happens. Everything goes white, and cold and hot all at once. He can’t breathe, but he _remembers_ this feeling. It’s working; it’s working; it’s _working_.

He’s floating, which he’s sort of getting used to.

And then they’re crashing to the ground. Everything hurts, but he’s breathing again, so he’s hardly going to go complaining. The kids – and Soos – are alive. A little the worse for wear, but alive. That’s a relief.

Even _this_ wouldn’t have been enough to make up for the guilt that would eat away at him if they’d been killed in the process.

He doesn’t really have time to think about it, because then _he’s_ here.

His brother, alive and presumably well. Well enough.

Well, alive.

He wonders, briefly, about what _his_ being back will mean in the grander scheme of things. Dipper finding the third journal hadn’t exactly been part of the plan, after all.

But they’re all here and breathing with their feet on the ground.

Everything else will work itself out eventually.

Right?


End file.
